


Last Chance

by Adona



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:50:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adona/pseuds/Adona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love, loss and a broken heart. But it's never that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Chance

Behind him, Vila pounded the lock on his cabin door, intent upon getting roaring drunk. Hatred was burning in his soul, and drowning himself in alcohol seemed the only reasonable solution at the moment. 

He stomped across his quarters to his well-stocked liquor cabinet. Xenon base had begun to feel like home to the thief, but now, he felt more isolated than he ever had. He didn't belong here. He had been an idiot to allow himself to imagine that he did. He slammed two full bottles of strong wine on the coffee-table in front of him, and then two more. He uncorked a fifth and took a deep draw, not bothering with a glass.

//Tomorrow,// he advised himself sternly, //I'm getting the hell out of here. I'll make him take me to -- to Space City. Yes, that's it. A few weeks on the pleasure machines will make me forget all of this.// He was fooling himself, and he knew it, but his anger continued to rant. //Yes, that's just what I need -- the best of everything. Food, wine, and the best sex shows that money can buy. I deserve it. They have machines there that do things even I haven't thought of. And machines won't betray me -- won't lie to me.// He took another drink.

A small voice in his mind argued that Avon had never lied to him -- he had never even said that they were friends -- but Vila wasn't ready to permit Avon any kind of an out. Even though they hadn't slept together in over a year, Vila had allowed himself to believe that there was still something between them. Every night for a year, the thief had laid alone, longing for his lost lover, hoping that Avon would come to him, tell him that he still wanted him. 

He had never envisioned his future without Avon in it. Even the madness that had of late crept into Avon's eyes did not cause the thief to lose hope, though he had been frightened for his dear friend. He had wanted to give him comfort, but he couldn't even offer it, anymore. Avon could silence him with a glance. 

One day though, he had been certain, Avon would come back to him. The feelings between them were still there, he had always asserted to himself. Avon would come back.

Now he knew that he had been deceiving himself. It had always been one-sided. Avon had never cared. The Alpha clearly felt nothing but contempt for him. 

"You tried to kill me!" he screamed out loud at the wall, throwing the bottle at it as if the tech, himself, had been standing there. 

The shattering glass seemed to shatter something inside the Delta. "I loved you -- you knew that. How could you do this to me?" Collapsing on the couch, Vila gave in, at last, to tears. "Damn you, Avon," he sobbed bitterly. He reached for the second bottle. This one, he drank.

* * *

There was no answer at Vila's door. He hadn't really expected one. Of course, Vila didn't want to see him. This just might be the final straw that pushed Vila away from him forever. And Avon couldn't blame him. Somehow, though, he had to try to . . . to what? Explain? How could he explain this? He didn't really understand it himself, and there was certainly no way to justify it. 

The explanation that it was one of them or both just wouldn't wash. Vila might understand that -- he may even believe that that is what had motivated Avon -- but Avon knew better. A year ago, he would never have been ready to sacrifice a comrade, particularly Vila. Avon had changed, and it frightened him. He was gradually going mad. He didn't seem able to stop it. Vila was his anchor, the only portion of sweet sanity left to him. And he had tried to kill him.

He wished fervently that he had never had to find out just what he was now capable of. It was the perfect culmination to what he had been doing to Vila for the last year. 

Since Anna.

Avon gazed benumbed into Anna's dead face. They were alone now, he and his first love, his betrayer. The others had teleported. Something about the Feds, he seemed to remember.

He felt empty, hollow. All of his memories had soured, crumbled to dust. Anna had never been what he had thought. It had all been a lie. The commitment, the love. Her death for his sake, and his years of suffering over it. All a lie.

An agent. 

Now she was dead, and by his hand. 

"I let you go," she had said. No. She hadn't. She had always held a portion of his heart, a small sanctuary of revered memories, of lost dreams. He had kept that sacred place private, even from Vila. It was dead now, too. Cold, and putrid, rotting his soul from the inside out. 

//I loved you,// Avon thought. //Part of me still does. Did I really kill you? I had sworn to protect you. Please don't hate me, Anna. Please forgive me.// He started shaking. Sounds from outside intruded upon him. The troopers would be here soon, he told himself. Then it would be over. 

He didn't feel anything. All he needed to do was wait. It would be a relief. No one would even miss him. 

Except Vila. 

That thought broke through to him, somehow. Vila loved him -- really loved him. He couldn't doubt it, even now. 

And he loved Vila. How could he have forgotten that, for even a moment? What he had with Vila was better than it had ever been with Anna. Avon had often felt guilty about that. Now he realized that it was because, with Vila, it was real.

He didn't want to die. //Where is that bracelet?// He looked quickly about. The bracelet lay in the far corner. Gently laying Anna amidst the rubble, Avon retrieved it, snapping it on his wrist just as the door gave way. "Teleport now!" he called. And the room vanished, replaced by the familiar brightness of the Liberator.

In the second he materialized, he saw Vila's face transform from pale, stricken worry to profound relief and joy. The thief visibly battled to remain where he was, behind the console, beating down the impulse to fly across the room into Avon's arms. Avon's heart leapt at the burning love evident in Vila's soft eyes. 

He knew he didn't deserve to be loved this way -- not after what he'd done, not considering the kind of man he was. But Vila did love him, whether he deserved it or not. 

None of his crewmates commented on the events on the planet, nor on Avon's aborted suicide attempt. An uneasy cloud hung about the flight deck as each of them silently dealt with shock, sympathy, and anger. Avon, himself, was even more remote than usual. After a time, he excused himself and retreated to his quarters. 

He had changed into more comfortable clothing and poured himself a drink when there was a knock at his door. He smiled. Vila. He opened the door to find the thief anxious and concerned. 

Avon's smile took Vila rather by surprise. He hadn't been certain that Avon would even let him in, perhaps insisting on some time alone. Instead, Vila found himself wrapped in strong arms and pulled into the cabin. Avon's mouth covered his with an almost desperate passion. Soft moans escaped the tech's throat as the intensity of the kisses quickly carried Vila beyond his worried thoughts, beyond all thoughts at all. 

Vila was ravished with gentle desires that moved him to the center of his soul. Avon had always been a sensitive, thoughtful lover, but the tenderness he showed this night surpassed any Vila had ever known. Divested of his clothing, he had become hopelessly aroused by Avon's caresses and kisses, by touches and nibbles that left his chest heaving and his penis harder than he had ever remembered it being in his life. 

Vila was nearing the point of begging for release when Avon suddenly pulled away. Vila moaned in protest and reached for his love. Avon sat on his heels on the bed next to his lover, desire and trepidation warring in him. He knew what he wanted, but he almost couldn't believe it. 

Suddenly, he smiled. He really did trust Vila completely. He trusted him enough to lean down and whisper breathlessly in his ear, "I need to feel you inside me, Vila." He kissed the ear, and down the neck before pulling back to gaze into Vila's face. 

The thief stared wide-eyed at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Avon grinned. "Yes, my Vila, I do mean it. I want you." He kissed Vila gently. "Please," he whispered. He slid his arms under the smaller man and slowly rolled them over so that Vila was on top. 

The thief was trembling. He knew Avon had never done this before, not with anyone. He buried his face in the Alpha's neck and, so deeply was he moved, a few tears escaped him. Avon held him tightly, comforting him, whispering words of caring and passion. At last Vila met his eyes. "You're sure about this?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Vila. I am sure." They kissed again, sweetly this time, as if it were a first kiss. Vila then moved slowly down Avon's body, doing all of the things that he knew Avon liked -- all of the wonderfully familiar things that suddenly seemed brand new. 

Kneeling at last between Avon's spread legs, he reached for the lubricant on the nightstand. He looked into Avon's face and saw trust there. And love. Yes, Vila was certain it was love. Slowly he rubbed a creamy finger around the outside of Avon's virgin opening. 

Avon gasped and then sighed. It felt wonderful -- he had never imagined. He had known that Vila, and other former lovers, enjoyed these sensations, but he hadn't known how powerful they could be, how intimate. "Vila," he whispered hoarsely. "Oh, god, Vila."

The thief smiled, thrilled to be giving this new pleasure to his beloved. Avon's responses to his tender caresses brought him dangerously close to the edge, himself. He fought to maintain control. He wanted this to be perfect. 

One finger pushed gently inside. Avon moaned in obvious pleasure, his breath quickening. A second finger, and a third, stroking him on the inside, touching his heart as deeply as his body. 

Vila gradually spread the opening wide, feeling the muscles relax. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Avon. When his partner was open and ready, Vila withdrew his hand and squeezed more lube into his palm, using it to prepare himself. Then both of them were ready. Vila, his heart in his eyes, proclaimed softly, "I love you."

"Oh, Vila," Avon replied, "Vila."

The thief could wait no longer. Pushing Avon's knees to his chest, he moved forward, positioning himself so that the tip of his cock rested against the rosy pucker. Slowly, slowly, he pushed his way in. Avon tensed for just a moment as Vila's full length sheathed itself, but then he relaxed and gave in to the pleasure of it, of being possessed by this man. And it was pleasurable. Wonderful, in fact. 

Vila began to move, withdrawing almost completely before surging forward once again. He took Avon's hardness in his hand and pumped in rhythm. Avon moaned, his hands finding their way into the thief's hair. For long minutes, there was nothing but the two of them and the relentless, glorious rhythm. At last, Vila could hold back no longer, he doubled his pumping on Avon's cock as he came, screaming Avon's name as the wave of orgasm washed over him.

An instant later, Avon joined him, riding the pleasure to previously un-scaled heights. When the ecstasy had finally passed, they lay unmoving, both astounded by the magnificent act of love they had shared, knowing that words would break the spell they had cast together.

After a time, it occurred to Vila that Avon was not at all in a comfortable position. Regretfully, he withdrew, easing his lover's legs down, and lying next to him. Avon folded Vila into his arms, daring to speak at last. "Oh, Vila," he brushed his lips against the smaller man's, "thank you. I never knew. . ."

"Neither did I." He snuggled into the crook of Avon's arm, content and joyful. 

Avon kissed his forehead, and lay back on the pillow. He had never been so happy as he was at that moment. The rest of the universe could go to hell, as far as he was concerned. He had all he could ever need or want. He drifted blissfully to sleep.

But his dreams betrayed him. He dreamed the two people he had loved in his life, of Vila and of Anna, but the images were all confused. Vila asked him if he trusted him. Anna picked a lock to break into a Federation base. Anna was captured by Federation guards on Earth, while Avon was helplessly wounded; somehow, though, when they tortured her to death, she became Vila, suffering untold agonies that only Avon's mind could invent. Then, in the cellar, Servalan chained to the wall, Anna was alive. She betrayed him. She tried to shoot him. He fired. But, holding her in his arms, it was Vila looking up at him. Vila saying "I love you, Avon," one last time. Vila, slumping in death.

Avon awoke, terrified, his heart thundering. He fought to calm himself. //No,// his rational mind tried to assert, //It's just a dream. I could never kill Vila. Not Vila.// You never imagined you were capable of killing Anna, either, did you? another voice answered. //But Vila would never betray me the way she did. It isn't possible.// Is that really why you killed her? //She lied to me, she betrayed me. I didn't even really know her -- only what she pretended to be. I do know Vila. He would never lie to me.// No, but that isn't why you killed Anna. You don't kill people wantonly, Avon. You loved her, you trusted her. You gave her the power to hurt you. If you had not loved her, you would not have gone so far. You killed her because you loved her and she disappointed you. You killed her because you loved her. 

Avon argued desperately, //But it's different with Vila. I couldn't . . .// Is it different? Really? Think about the kind of man you are. Think about what your love can do. It kills. 

Doesn't Vila deserve someone who knows how to love? Doesn't he deserve someone better than you?

Avon looked at the man sleeping blissfully next to him. That he couldn't deny. He thought of the love that poured from the thief's soul, the unequaled act of love he had performed for the two of them just hours before. Vila deserved everything. Certainly not a cold-blooded murderer. Not someone capable of what Avon was capable of. 

Avon knew that he was unworthy of Vila. Frankly, he had known that for some time. The love Vila had for him was almost too much for him to bear. His own love had grown to an ache that consumed him every moment they were apart. But it wasn't enough. 

He just couldn't give enough back to the thief. Not that Vila complained. No, the thief seemed truly happy with the comparative scraps Avon tossed him. And they were scraps, he now knew. //My god, I can't even tell him I love him.// he reproved himself, ashamed. 

For the rest of the night, he wrestled with himself, wondering if staying with Vila was purely selfish, yet reminding himself that he did, indeed make the thief happy. He didn't know what to do. At last, he rose, got dressed and headed for the flight deck, leaving Vila asleep, oblivious to Avon's struggles.

The tech sat at his station on the flight deck, knowing that he had to make a decision, and he had to put aside his own desires and think only of Vila. 

He couldn't allow Vila to love him again until the decision was made. He knew that, if he did, he could never find the resolve to leave him. 

That was the last time they were together. So much happened so quickly -- Terminal, Blake, Cally, the Liberator. There was no opportunity to deal with his love and his fear. Soon it became easier simply not to deal with it. Moreover, those events just confirmed to him that it would be wrong of him to be with Vila, much as he wanted to be. More guilt. Further evidence of what his love would do. It would be safer for both of them if it were over. 

Still the dreams did not relent. Nearly every night, he had the same confused dreams, killing Vila in the cellar, on Terminal, or, sometimes, in other ways. In all of his dreams, Vila died at his hand. He tried to avoid sleeping, heavily sedating himself when sleep became absolutely necessary, but staying awake for days in the intervals. It took its toll, but Avon had seen no alternative.

He knew that Vila was miserable, that he didn't, couldn't understand, so the tech didn't even try to explain. He didn't want to listen to Vila's arguments. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that he couldn't withstand them. So, he simply made his decision clear and refused to explain. Vila asked again and again what he had done. Avon simply said, "You've done nothing," and refused to talk of it further. He had to shut out the thief completely. It was the only way.

At least, that was how it had seemed to him at the time. Now, he realized, he had been at the beginning of a long slide into madness.

Avon sighed, laying his forehead against the door. He had no explanation for his actions. So what was he doing here? He didn't know. There was something within him that needed to see Vila, needed to know if he'd finally managed to kill all of the thief's feelings for him. Perhaps that was the most selfish thing of all -- still wanting Vila to love him. He only knew that he couldn't walk away. Pragmatically, he began working on the lock.

A few minutes later, Vila's door slid open. There were two bottles on the table -- one empty, the other nearly half -- and two more empties scattered on the floor. One wall was stained red with wine from the bottle lying shattered beneath it. Vila, himself, lay sprawled on the couch, mouth agape, either unconscious or asleep.

Avon pursed his lips and grunted, both annoyed and relieved. He might have known. At least he had been granted a short reprieve. Crossing to the couch, Avon knelt down and looked long at the slumbering face. Memories of smiles and laughter sprang to his mind. Vila was the only light he could see dark expanse of his past life -- the light that Anna had once been now appeared bleak and festering. Vila had always been caring, warm, and undemanding. He had been the only person truly to love Avon. A knot tightened in Avon's stomach as he realized that this drunken, Delta thief was the only thing he had to live for.

Avon ran his fingers through Vila's thinning hair. //How can I tell you what you mean to me? And why should you believe it, even if I found a way?// 

He sighed, // I've got to find a way.// 

* * *

Lying in bed a short time later, Avon looked again at the smaller man next to him. The tech had gone over and over the events of the last year, looking for the words that would make Vila understand. For the first time, he had somehow managed to distance himself from it all, and was surprised at how much more he now understood, how much he had been denying to himself until the events on the shuttle had forced him to face the truth. 

If only he had been able to allow himself the luxury of Vila's comfort and love a year ago -- how different things might be now. Vila had tried -- had tried for weeks -- but Avon had staunchly refused him, finally ordering him to leave him the hell alone. Even then, Vila managed to make it clear that he was always available to Avon. In return, Avon had shown him only callous indifference. //Forgive me, Vila,// he thought, //I was wrong. I did need you. I do need you.//

His thoughts wandered back over their relationship to the first night they spent together, just weeks after coming aboard the Liberator. Vila had come to the Alpha's quarters with wine and a chess board. He had tried to seem casual, but Avon had suspected from the beginning what the thief wanted. 

"Do you really imagine that you can beat me, Vila?" he asked arrogantly.

Vila grinned slyly, "Oh, I don't know, probably not. But it might be fun to try. Who knows, I might just surprise you."

And he had. He was a very good strategist. They stalemated their first two games. Vila was an entertaining guest, telling outrageous stories and putting Avon at ease.

Pouring yet another drink, Vila suggested nonchalantly, "Let's make a little wager on this one, Avon, my friend. To make it a bit more exciting."

Avon was just intoxicated enough by this point to agree to a wager. Vila went on. "What could we bet? There's plenty of money on the Liberator, and it belongs to all of us, so that's no good. Any ideas?"

The Alpha raised an eyebrow. //Ah, here it is at last. All right,// he thought, //I'll play along.// "Perhaps something a bit more. . . personal?"

Vila's grin widened. "I like the way you think, Avon, old boy. What do you have in mind?"

//So, he's putting it on me. He'll probably try to convince me later that it was my idea. Fine. I accept the responsibility, Vila.// Without expression, he said, "If I win, I get to fuck you."

Vila faked a marvelous look of surprise. After an appropriate silence, he asked, "And if I win?" 

"What do you want?"

"How about, if I win, you have to fuck me?"

Avon looked down at the chess board. "With stakes like these, there seems to be little point in actually playing the game."

"You know, that's true," Vila agreed happily, coming around the table to stand in front of Avon, offering his body and, Avon realized later, his heart. Standing himself, the tech took the Delta by the arms and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. Vila surrendered completely.

It was a wonderful night, surpassing any expectations Avon might have had. Vila proved to be a very inventive and sensuous lover, quickly learning Avon's desires and needs, and meeting them with both admirable skill and fervent emotion. Avon felt bewitched, captured in a spell of passion that was as frightening as it was thrilling. They brought one another to climax again and again, until they collapsed into an exhausted sleep. 

From that night, they had never slept apart until Anna and, unbelievably, every night it had gotten better and more intense between them. In all the time they were together, Avon had never named the feelings he came to have for the thief -- at least not out loud -- but he knew. He knew. 

Lying in Vila's bed now, holding his former lover again after so very long, Avon wondered how he ever could have walked away from this. He must have been mad. He knew also that he had to tell Vila -- tell him all of it. It was his only hope. He prayed silently to the ceiling that it wasn't too little, too late.

* * *

Vila's head was steadily throbbing as he drifted muzzily toward consciousness. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, and the small part of his mind that was awake determined resolutely to retreat back into sleep. He moaned and rolled over to a more comfortable position, snuggling into the warm arms that held him. That small part of his mind grew somewhat disturbed. Something was wrong. It dragged him to unwilling wakefulness. 

Opening his eyes, Vila came face to chest with his former lover and would-be murderer. He gasped and pushed himself away, but Avon's arms tightened around him, refusing his escape. After a short struggle, Vila's pounding heart and throbbing head forced him to relent. He lay unwillingly against Avon, panting for a few moments. Questions raced through his mind -- what did Avon want? What had happened last night? How had they wound up in bed together? They hadn't . . . had they? When he spoke, however, he asked none of these things. "Leave me alone, Avon. I don't want you here." It was just a whisper, but he knew Avon had heard him.

Avon's hold loosened slightly, but he did not release the thief. Vila felt Avon's breath in his hair as the tech spoke quietly. "I don't blame you if you hate me, Vila, but I need to talk to you. I need to try to make you understand. All night long, I've laid here awake, trying to figure out just what to say to you. I did a lot of soul-searching. I believe I can explain, but I need you to listen. That's all. After that, if you want to leave, to never see me again, I will abide by your wishes. You have my word.

"So, you have a choice, Vila. You can refuse to listen to me, and we will lie here like this while I explain. Or, you can give me your word that you'll hear me out, and we can get up, get dressed, and talk it out together. Frankly, I see advantages to both options, but the choice is yours."

//You see advantages to both? I'll bet you do.// Vila knew that he could not fight Avon off. He debated with himself angrily over the choices he'd been given. No choice, really. If he agreed to listen, it would be, in itself, a compromise. Even if he gave in on nothing more -- and he had no intention of doing so -- he didn't want Avon to win even that much from him. Yet, lying in his arms, a naked captive, was not at all a comfortable situation. Vila was afraid that, this close and this vulnerable, he'd allow himself to believe what Avon told him -- that he'd want to believe it. Besides, much as he hated to admit it, this felt too good. With effort, Avon might, even now, succeed in seducing him, not that the tech had any interest in doing so -- he had made that abundantly clear during the past year. 

Damning his own weakness, Vila drew a deep breath. "All right. I'll listen. Let me go."

It was with obvious reluctance that Avon released Vila. The thief rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed. Then he groaned, dropping his tortured head into his hands. 

"You must feel awful. Do you need help?"

"No," Vila snapped quickly. "I'll be fine." He stumbled to the coffee-table and took a long drink from the remaining bottle. Having been open all night, it tasted bitter, but Vila knew that the best treatment for a hangover was the hair of the dog. He got some painkillers from the medicine cabinet in the WC, and downed them with another deep swallow of wine. 

Avon had followed him, and Vila looked up to see the naked beauty of the man to whom he had once whispered words of love in the dark of the night. "A shower might make you feel better," the Alpha suggested. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

Vila glared resentfully at him, but knew that a shower would help to clear his head. And he needed a clear head now like never before. He stood for long minutes under the steaming spray, trying to erect a hard, emotionless facade to match the cold heart of his companion. Deciding that he had at last succeeded, he set his jaw and stepped out of the shower. 

Avon had laid out clothes for him. Tight-fitting cotton trousers and a loose silky shirt in complimentary shades of brown. Vila looked at them sourly, but donned them anyway.

Avon was waiting for him on the couch, clothed casually in soft black, without the studs that he affected so often of late. He gazed at Vila, obviously nervous. 

//Good,// the thief thought. //You sweat it out, for once.// Vila sat in a chair opposite the tech. He was not going to give Avon control of the conversation. "I can't imagine what you feel the need to say," he voiced coldly. "It is obvious what happened. You tried to kill me in order to save your own miserable skin. It seems that you have won our unspoken dispute about the nature of your soul. Congratulations."

Avon was startled. He had expected Vila to be remote, but he hadn't known that the thief was capable of this kind of spite. Maybe it was already too late. "It is not that simple, Vila. You're not taking into account the two greatest factors." He was silent, hoping that Vila would ask, thereby dropping some of the wall of animosity with which he had surrounded himself. 

After a moment, Vila gave in. "And they are?"

"That I love you, and that I am going mad." The words didn't come with as much difficulty as he had expected. It was almost a relief to speak them, in fact. He watched Vila closely for his reaction to these truths.

The Delta's eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed hard. Then, scowling, he said softly, "I don't believe you. You never loved me, not when we were together, and not now. Please have the decency not to lie to me about it."

"I am not lying." Avon spoke softly, "I think I fell in love with you that first night, when you came to my room and we made love all night. Vila, we made love nearly every night for more than two and a half years. And every time, I fell more deeply in love with you. I never said it then, I couldn't somehow, but . . . well, recent events make it necessary. I know how much I have hurt you -- not just yesterday, but for the past year. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself, and I certainly can't ask you to forgive me. But I hope, at least, that you will believe that I have loved you, and that I still love you."

What the hell did Avon hope to gain with this ploy? Vila couldn't imagine, but the Alpha had certainly succeeded in provoking a reaction. "Why should I?" he spat at the tech. "How many times did I tell you how I felt, and you never said anything. You must have known how much it meant to me, how much I wanted to hear it. If you loved me so much, why couldn't you say it?" There was a desperation creeping into his anger, and Vila tried to keep his focus. He would not let Avon talk him into staying.

"Because I was afraid," Avon answered without hesitation. 

"Oh, come on, Avon," Vila scoffed. "Afraid?"

"I know that is difficult for you to believe, but it is the truth." 

"You've never been afraid of anything in your life. You knew how I felt. How could you have been afraid of just saying the words?"

"It wasn't the words, it was the feelings, themselves. My feelings. It was frightening enough feeling that much for you. Making myself vulnerable enough to tell you -- well, I just couldn't. You see, Vila, it is not that I didn't love you. It was that I was afraid of loving you too much."

"I see," Vila responded coldly. "So now we are to go back and rewrite our relationship based on this revelation? I am to accept that you loved me, and just forget the way it really was? Sorry, old boy. If you had loved me, I would have known."

"Didn't you? I think you did know." Maybe if he appealed to Vila's memory. . . "Do you remember the night after the trip to Freedom City? Do you remember how intense our love-making was that night? How tightly I held you? I wanted to pull you inside me, Vila, to wrap myself around you and keep you safe. You might have died in that speed chess match. I had never been so frightened. I loved you so much that I didn't think I could have gone on without you. I certainly wouldn't have wanted to. 

"Think back to that night, Vila. Even without the words, couldn't you tell how I felt?"

After the others had left the teleport section, Avon and Vila had retrieved their hidden winnings and had bolted for Avon's cabin. Vila poured his new-found wealth on the bed and proceeded to run his hands through it, laughing gleefully. Avon dropped into a chair, not joining in the revelry.

Vila turned to find his partner-in-crime looking somewhat pale and distant. "What's wrong, Avon? We've got all this money. And we had fun, didn't we? You should be celebrating."

The tech looked up with haunted eyes. "You could have been killed, you know," he said quietly.

Vila was momentarily transfixed by Avon's dark stare. Trying to lighten the mood, he answered, "Yeah. I can't believe I was so stupid. You should have seen the look on your face when he announced that I had challenged the Klute."

"Promise me, Vila, that you won't ever do anything like that again. Please." 

Vila knelt before his subdued friend. "I won't. I promise." He leaned forward and kissed Avon gently, trying to comfort him, to help him out of this strange mood.

Avon wrapped his arms tightly around the thief, deepening the kiss so that it took Vila's breath away. After a few moments he stood, pulling Vila to his feet, as well. Avon pushed him backwards until they collapsed on the bed on top of Vila's money. Avon was aggressive, even more dominant than usual, attacking the thief with possessive kisses and caresses that left Vila moaning and writhing even as he was being hurriedly divested of all of his clothing. 

Avon held Vila's head, nibbling and sucking on his ear, then furiously moving down his neck, sending bolts of electricity through the helpless thief. Vila moaned, clutching desperately at his lover, trapped powerlessly beneath him. Avon pinned down Vila's arms and attacked one nipple, alternately sucking hard and nibbling, sending pulses of ecstasy directly to Vila's already hard cock, which was sandwiched tightly between their bodies. Then, Avon lightly tongued the nipple, causing Vila to arch and thrust, crying out Avon's name with near incoherence. 

The Alpha then proceeded to the other nipple and repeated the treatment. Already, Vila was pleading for release. Never had he been brought this close to the edge this quickly, but Avon's attentions were so intense, so impassioned, that the thief was completely swept away. Nothing existed but Avon's hands and mouth and his solid weight, pressing Vila into the bed.

A hand closed around Vila's hot erection and began slowly, slowly pumping him, in rhythm with the sucking of his nipple. "Please, my love," Vila begged, "please." 

Avon gave a low, throaty chuckle, and reached for the tube of lubricant on the nightstand. With merciless gentleness, he rubbed the lotion around the puckered rosette of Vila's entrance, all the while watching the desperation increase on Vila's face. On and on he caressed the sensitive flesh until finally, clutching handfuls of bedclothes, Vila bucked back, trying to impale himself on the finger that was tormenting him. But Avon was too quick, pulling away just in time. Vila moaned in frustration. "Pleeease!" He implored again. 

Avon's smile was predatory, his eyes burning with possessive desire. He caught Vila's eyes and, by sheer force of will, held them as he slipped one moist finger into the hot chasm. Vila gasped, but did not blink or turn aside. A second finger and a third, caressing him inside, making love to his body and his soul. Avon's other hand resumed the oh-so-slow pumping of Vila's impossibly hard cock. Vila felt as if he were being ripped apart by ecstasy, that only Avon's insistent, hungry eyes kept him from flying into a thousand pieces.

Suddenly, Avon released Vila's cock and removed his fingers from the burning tunnel. Vila groaned, but knew that Avon wouldn't make him wait much longer. 

The Alpha sat back on his heels, still between Vila's legs. Using both hands, he lubricated himself, tauntingly stroking his hardness as Vila watched eagerly. Pumping himself slowly, Avon closed his eyes and let his head drop back, each breath catching in his throat. 

Vila was transfixed. Avon had never done anything like this before, had never exposed as much of himself as he now did, indulging in unreserved self-pleasuring. It was the most beautiful sight Vila had ever seen. A tear formed in his eye, even as his own desire compelled him to take his own cock in hand. He kept himself near the edge, but did not bring himself over. He wanted Avon to do that. 

At last, Avon met his eyes once more. His hands stilled, and he said simply, "Vila." Then he took Vila's legs, lifting them to his shoulders.

"Yes, Avon. Now, please," Vila managed to say.

The tech advanced until the tip of his cock rested against Vila's sensitive entrance. For a moment, he didn't move. Breathing hard, he looked down at himself, poised to enter Vila, to possess him completely. Then he looked again to Vila's eyes, which met his with undisguised love and desire. Avon smiled. Not a conquering smile, nor a cruel one. Simply a smile of happiness. 

Vila couldn't prevent the tears this time -- they escaped the corners of his eyes, cutting paths down the sides of his face. He smiled back, happier at this moment than he had ever been.

Then Avon moved, slowly pushing his way in until he was completely engulfed. The sensations tore through both men, and they could hold back no longer. Furiously, they moved as one, crying out together when, finally, both of them came, riding the wave of pleasure until it eventually subsided. So powerful was the orgasm that Vila nearly lost consciousness for a moment, coming back to reality only when the weight of his lover collapsed heavily upon him. Avon buried his face in Vila's neck. 

When he had caught his breath, Vila reached up, stroking Avon's damp, silky hair, and whispered, "I love you so much." 

Avon squeezed him tightly and nuzzled his face deeper into the thief's neck, whispering a muted, "Vila."

//He does love me,// Vila thought joyously. //Every time he says my name, he's telling me.// It was enough for Vila. Blissfully, he drifted to sleep, his lover still inside him.

Vila closed his eyes and, sternly reminding himself of the shuttle flight, forced the intimate images from his mind. They were just too painful now. "I had thought so at the time," he responded quietly to Avon's question, "but I was wrong. If you had ever loved me, you couldn't have done what you did yesterday. God knows that I couldn't kill you, even now."

Avon shook his head. "Yes. Well, you would be justified if you did, but I know you aren't capable of that. I honestly wish I weren't, either, but we found out yesterday just what a madman I've become, didn't we?"

Vila had no response to that.

"Madness is insidious, Vila," Avon continued cynically. "You can't really see it from the inside. I've only seen it in flashes from time to time, often in your eyes. You have long been aware that I have been growing increasingly irrational, haven't you, my dear? Now I see it, too. The most clear example is how I've treated you. I have needed you so much, but I have not let you near me. And how you have tried -- my sweet Vila, always available, wanting to comfort me. But I couldn't let you. I didn't entirely understand why, at the time. I just couldn't. 

"It has to do with Anna. And Cally. And Blake." He paused, his voice growing even softer. "I had loved Anna, you know. Oh, not like with you, but I had loved her." He grew introspective, "I never told her, either. I only said that I trusted her, and that admission was difficult enough. When I thought she was dead, I often spoke to her, asked her to forgive me -- for not being a better man, a better lover. For not being able to protect her. 

"When I was with you, I swore I'd be better. And I think I was, Vila. I think I was good to you." He paused again. "But then I found out the truth about Anna. And I killed her. I killed her, Vila."

"You had no choice," Vila insisted, defending Avon even now, even from himself.

"I realize that, but it doesn't change the fact that I loved her -- whether she was worthy of it or not -- and that I killed her. That's when it began. That's when I pushed you away. That's why I was so foolish when I thought I had heard from Blake. 

"I didn't want to be responsible for other people anymore, especially you. I intended to give it all back to Blake, to be free of it. I might have stayed with the ship, I don't know, but I wouldn't have had to be the leader, to make the decisions. Blake would be responsible, and he always seemed able to accept that. 

"I never again wanted to be put in the position of being responsible for the death of someone I cared for. But I got careless. And I got Cally killed. That was my fault, too. I had done it again, not with my own hands this time, but I caused her death."

Vila interrupted, "You can't blame yourself for that, Avon. You told us not to follow you."

"And if you hadn't?" Avon answered with self-derision, his voice rising in pitch and intensity. "The Liberator was disintegrating, Vila. Again, my fault. Either all of you would have died aboard, or you would have wound up coming down to the planet anyway, and the results would probably have been the same. Don't you see? I am responsible. There's no way around that."

Vila was silent. He couldn't deny that Avon was right, that his decisions had led directly to the disaster on Terminal. He didn't understand why he wanted to find a justification for his former friend. He shouldn't care, he told himself. He should want to see Avon suffer. But he didn't. Not this.

Avon continued. "After that, I decided that the only way to prevent it from happening again was to stop caring about anyone. If I didn't love, I could never again kill what I loved. Simple enough, though not particularly rational. It would have made more sense if I had just left, disappeared, been alone and self-reliant as I had always said I wanted to be. But I couldn't do it." He shook his head, dropping his eyes.

"Why not?" Vila asked, growing curious and concerned, in spite of his former resolve.

"Believe it or not, I didn't even consider the option at the time. Looking at it now, I think there were two reasons. First, I didn't want to leave you. It was fairly easy shutting out Tarrant and Dayna, and I just never let Soolin get close, which seemed to suit her fine. But you. I tried to push you away, refusing your comfort, refusing your bed. I hurt you terribly, I know. I was trying to make you stop loving me, to make myself stop loving you, but it didn't work. My feelings didn't lessen one bit. If anything, my need for you actually grew. And the fact that you clearly still wanted me made it even more difficult to bear. I came to resent you for that. Still, I couldn't leave you. 

"Gradually, I became convinced that it was inevitable that I would cause your death, too. I stayed because I wanted to protect you, even though I was certain that what you really needed protection from was me. Again, it isn't rational. I treated you terribly, but I stayed to be with you." Avon sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He thought he had explained himself fairly well, considering how confused and convoluted it all was. Now he felt awkward, exposed. He had never talked like this about his emotions before. It was difficult. But, maybe, if he succeeded, Vila would stay. And maybe Vila could help him find his sanity once more.

Vila stared at the top of Avon's head. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had ruthlessly hunted him only the day before. This was more like the old Avon -- the one he had fallen in love with. The uncharacteristic openness put the thief off his guard. Part of him -- the angry part -- was glad that this was so difficult for the Alpha. He deserved to suffer this small portion of the pain he had brought to Vila. 

There was another part of him, however -- the part that grudgingly admitted to still loving this man, in spite of it all -- that even now wanted to fold him in his arms and comfort him. 

After a few uneasy moments, Avon looked up and continued. "When Kirril asked you to go with her to Homeworld, part of me was hoping that you would go. Then you would have been safe, and I would have been free. I didn't begin to imagine that you loved me anymore -- I had been so cruel to you for so long, how could you have had any feelings left for me? Another part of me, though, was terrified that you'd leave me. The idea of never seeing you again -- no more warm smiles, no soft eyes, no more whispers of love and passion -- it cut me to the bone." He paused, squeezing his eyes shut. Sucking in a breath between clenched teeth, he said, "Without you, my life would have been empty." 

Vila was trembling now. He could find no words. 

"When you decided to stay, I was so relieved, but I was also angry. Did you want to die? I asked myself. How could you choose me over a woman who could love you and would never hurt you? I didn't understand, and, frankly, I still don't." Avon opened his eyes to look at his dear friend.

Vila remained silent, not meeting Avon's questioning gaze. The Alpha sighed. "The other reason was Blake. Even though he wasn't there, I couldn't shut out that. . . attachment, either. I felt responsible for keeping his rebellion going until I could hand it back to him. I know Servalan said he was dead, but I never really believed it. It now looks as though I may have been right. Orac may have found him. I am not yet certain, and I don't know what I will do if it is him. After all, what do I have to show for two years? What can I give him? The base and the ship and little more. How can I explain to him what has happened, what I have become?"

Avon looked to be on the verge of tears. Vila didn't think he could handle that. He rose and brought out another bottle of wine, pouring it into two large glasses and handing one to Avon. The tech accepted it gratefully, taking several deep swallows before going on. 

"Yesterday, on that shuttle, it seemed to me that the time had finally come. I didn't think of it on my own, you know. Orac had to point out to me that your weight would be enough."

"I know," Vila whispered hoarsely.

"When Orac said it, it suddenly seemed inevitable to me. I had been right all along -- I was going to kill you. The time had come, at last. It was like stepping off a cliff -- suddenly it's too late to change your mind. I felt sick, numb, but I came looking for you." He choked for a moment before he could go on. "But you had hidden from me. I couldn't find you. I called and called, but you were gone. 

"Then I found the brick. It was far too heavy. It actually took a moment for that to sink in. Reprieve! I managed to jettison it by myself -- I don't know how, really. Later, on Scorpio, I made that snide remark to you about being safe with me. That broke through to me, somehow. It was like hearing someone else speak from a long way away. I thought 'my god, how can I be so vicious to him? All he is guilty of is loving me.' Then I started to really think about what happened. 

"What if I'd found you? What if I had killed you and then found the brick. I'd have killed you for no reason at all. 

"Then I realized that it was for no reason, anyway. If I had succeeded, it would have destroyed me. So who was I trying to save? No one. I was doing it because I thought I had to, that I was fated to do it. What kind of reasoning was that? It's ridiculous! I have never believed in fate. 

"That's when I realized just how mad I've become. That's when I realized that I needed to tell you, needed to try to make it right with you. You are my only hope, Vila. If I lose you, I'll die. I am not merely being melodramatic. I need you that much. I truly can't live without you. Please, Vila. Help me. Help me become sane again."

All of Vila's anger was gone. He looked with compassionate eyes on Avon's desperate face. Could he really love this man again? he asked himself. Could he trust him? "What do you want from me? How can I help?"

"I want back what we once had. I realize that it will take time -- I have a lot to make up for. But I want it, Vila, and I am willing to work for it. The question is, do you still want me?" 

Vila could see Avon's trepidation, his fear of this last, greatest rejection. //So, what do I want? Do I want it all back?// Memories of warm nights of tender love sprang from his heart, and they provided his answer. He whispered, "Of course, I still want you. I'd do anything for you. I love you, Avon."

Avon's eyes grew bright, and he smiled a smile of profound relief. "I almost hadn't dared to hope," he said. Tears spilled down his face unheeded.

Vila moved to the couch, sitting next to his beloved. He wrapped Avon in his arms and cried with him, letting out some of his own accumulated pain. Avon turned in Vila's arms and clung to him tightly, relishing the long-missed feeling of his lover close to him. They rocked back and forth for some time, even when the tears had stopped.

Finally, Vila spoke. "I don't think I can just get back into your bed, Avon. I love you -- that will never change -- but I don't think I'm quite ready for sex. Not yet. I'm sorry."

"Don't you be sorry for anything. All fault lies with me. And it's all right. We'll take it as slowly as you want -- you can set the pace. I am just so grateful that you're giving me another chance. I will do whatever you want."

"Then hold me. Just keep holding me for now. I need to let myself trust you again, and, with me, that's probably the best way." He paused, drinking in the warmth, the scent, the feel of Avon next to him. It was like a sweet homecoming. He wouldn't have minded staying here forever. "You feel so good," he whispered into Avon's neck.

"Oh, Vila," Avon squeezed him until the thief could hardly breath. Then he eased his grip and pulled back enough to look into Vila's face. "That last time we were together, when you made love to me. . . ?" Vila averted his eyes. That Avon had rejected him just after that night was one of the deepest wounds of all. "When you're ready, I'd like you to do it again, please." It was stated as any other simple request, like "could you hand me that spanner." 

Vila looked at him, stunned. "Really? I thought . . . I mean, it was the last time -- you shut me out after that. I thought you hadn't liked it. . . ."

"Vila," Avon's eyes smiled passionately, his voice low and intimate, "it was the most glorious night of my life. I didn't know how powerful love could be until that night. It . . . You were perfect."

Fears and insecurities Vila hadn't even realized were there were suddenly washed away, and he smiled happily. He pulled Avon into a long, deep kiss that left both of them panting. "When I'm ready," Vila promised, "I will do it again. Believe me!"

Avon laughed, the first real laugh Vila had heard from him in such a very long time. They talked about their feelings and desires, about their loneliness and pain. It was comforting, somehow, that neither of them had truly suffered alone.

At last, Avon addressed the other burning issue. "What I really want to do now is build something to give back to Blake. A real rebellion that he can use as he sees fit. If I can give him that, I think I will be able to walk away from all of this. Then we can be safe, and we can have a real life together."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not really sure. The first step is to find out if it really is Blake. If it is, we will come up with something. A lot of the planets in this sector are uncomfortable under Federation rule. We might be able to form some kind of alliance. Then, Blake can take over the base and the operation, and we can be free."

"Free," Vila repeated. "All right. I'm behind you one hundred percent, you know that. When it's over, where will we go?"

"Anywhere you want, my love. I don't care. I just want to be free of it and to be with you."

"Well, then, you work out the alliance, and I'll find us the most glorious paradise in the galaxy. Deal?" He snuggled more deeply into Avon's arms.

"Deal," the tech replied, looking to the future with hope for the first time in what seemed like ages. He smiled to himself. It would take time to build Blake his rebellion. It would take time to regain his sanity. It would take time to regain the lost intimacy with Vila. But Avon didn't care. He had a whole lifetime ahead of him to spend with Vila, and he planned to make use of every minute of it.


End file.
